A Long Way
by SoMuchDepends
Summary: When you finally get what you've always wanted, the world starts all over again. Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe navigate their happiness and tie up loose ends. Sequel to A Long Drive. Modern.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, everyone! This will be the much-anticipated(?) and asked-for(?) sequel to A Long Drive. One of the most prevailing comments I receive is that I never write more than 5 seconds of happiness for Anne and Gil. I hear you, so this is me trying, for the very first time, to write something fluffy and sweet. Hopefully, there will still be plot and intrigue and, knowing myself as I do, some angst. However, I do think it's time for a story like this. My stories tend to reflect the mood my life is in. I wrote Kill Me Now during the harshest two years of my life, and it shows. Now, I'm in one of the happiest times in my life, and I think A Long Way will reflect that. So, I hope everyone enjoys this story, and if you don't, please let me know if my fluff should be deleted immediately and never mentioned again. Thank you!_

* * *

When Anne Shirley looked back over her life, she counted three distinct mornings when she awoke feeling as if the world had begun again.

Once, on the morning when she boarded the bus to her new home and new family.

Another, the morning after she and Gil finally called their truce and spent hours laughing in the Lane.

And finally, the morning of her first day of classes at Redmond University.

On those days, the world felt friendlier, kinder and brighter. More full of possibility and adventure. And Anne, romantic as she was, treasured those memories deeply.

And now, as she awoke on a cool, spring Saturday, Anne knew today would increase her mornings of newness by one. Flipping in her bed, Anne caught sight of her yellow, striped umbrella hanging on her bedroom doorknob. A silly smile spread across her face, and she muffled her happiness in her lumpy pillow.

Flashes of memories from last night sparked in her mind. The warmth of Gil's uncontrolled happiness. The sound of rainwater dripping from his apartment building's roof. The softness of his dark green couch….

A perfunctory knock shattered her thoughts before Phil burst into her room, looking completely wild.

"Anne Shirley," Phil said, breathlessly, slamming the door behind her and bracing herself against it. "You must tell me every detail of what happened last night!"

"Must I, Phil?" Anne teased, getting up from her bed and slipping on her gray robe and pink house shoes. "Doesn't it feel a little private to you? I don't think I ever pried into your personal life—unless you hinted I should."

"That's only because you're a good friend and I'm not!" Phil explained, moving toward Anne, who sat down at her vanity and began brushing her hair. "You respect boundaries! I don't! And I need to know what happened between you and Gilbert Blythe last night."

Anne only smiled and got up from her seat. Swerving around Phil, she opened her door and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. But Phil was at her heel—never one to drop an intriguing subject.

"I'm begging you, Anne," Phil began, sliding into the bathroom behind Anne and plopping down on the rim of the bathtub. "I know you're probably still basking in your newfound happiness and joy and whatever, but the rest of us—mainly me—need the scoop. We've all—again, me—invested so much time and emotional labor into your surprisingly tumultuous love life, and we all—me—deserve some answers!"

"That's a definite point you've made, Phil," Anne retorted gently, shoving a toothbrush loaded with white-and-green striped toothpaste into her mouth. "Bud I jush can'd eben think ob where do sdard."

"Well, you can start with whatever happened between you and Roy last night," Phil said, rolling her eyes at Anne's smug, minty smirk. "Then, you can move on to your impressive and damp dash across Redmond to Gilbert Blythe's apartment. And finally, you can tell me all the lovesick things you and Gil said to each other and whatever dirty things you did to each other in the aftermath."

"Phil!" Anne choked, spitting out toothpaste into the sink. "Gil and I didn't do anything dirty—"

"You're telling me that desperate boy, who's been itching to put just one finger on you since fifth grade, didn't even touch you?" Phil interrupted, her crooked smile blooming mischievously.

"Well, I mean, he did touch me—"

"Did he try to kiss you?" Phil shot back, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, he didn't have to try—"

"Oh, how the story changes!" Phil exclaimed, her tone ecstatic. "Well, did he kiss you anywhere besides the mouth—not counting anything PG-rated like the forehead?"

"Aren't you going to be a pastor's wife?" Anne asked, grabbing Phil's shoulders and pushing her out of the bathroom. "But perhaps, he did. And perhaps it was amazing and felt so perfectly right. But, that's all for now."

"But, Anne…." Phil whined as Anne began determinedly closing the door.

"Later, later, I promise!" Anne said, leaning against the doorframe. "You know I owe a lot of my courage to you, and I can't thank you enough for pushing along most of my relationships. But I've got to use the restroom, and I need just a few more moments alone."

"Fine, Queen Anne," Phil laughed. "But I'll hold you to that promise. I never give up on a good story, and this has potential to be the best yet."

"Of course," smiled Anne, and she shut the door.

Finally, Anne was alone again in her brand new world. She paused to look at her dizzily happy expression in the mirror, and she couldn't help but think her future started today.


	2. Chapter 2

After Anne had readied herself for the day, she crept softly downstairs, trying not draw any undue attention. The warped, creaky stairs made that feat nearly impossible.

She had descended half the staircase when she heard the swift opening and shutting of a door at the top of the stairs.

"Anne Shirley! I've waited long enough!" Phil yelled, sliding haphazardly into view and steadying herself on the bannister. "You absolutely must tell me what happened!"

Another creaky door swung open.

"What happened?" Stella's voice rang out, and Anne froze in place.

"What happened between Anne and Gil!" Phil answered, as Stella's shocked face poked around the hallway corner. "Last night!"

There was a muffled clatter of a metal pan on the kitchen's linoleum floor, followed by a crescendo of high-heel clicks.

"Anne and Gil?!" Priscilla gasped, her wide eyes peering up at Anne from the downstairs landing. "What about Anne and Gil?"

"Nothing—" Anne began, fiddling with a loose string on her black, striped sweater.

"She went to his apartment late last night!" Phil interrupted, her left eyebrow quirking up.

"But I thought she went out with Roy?" Stella said, her confused voice echoing down the stairwell.

"I—" Anne began again, looking up to where Stella and Phil stood.

"Roy proposed!" Phil interrupted again.

Stella and Priscilla gasped in unison.

"Then why were you at Gil's apartment?" Priscilla asked, her mouth gaping open.

All three roommates turned to look at Anne, who blushed deeply under her impromptu spotlight. Phil and Stella crept down and Priscilla up the stairs toward Anne.

"Well," the auburn-haired woman said, her tone measured. "I was at Gil's apartment because….Well, Roy proposed and I said no….."

Anne paused, and household froze.

"And that's when I realized I had been entirely stupid when it came to Gil," Anne breathed out, casually. "So I ran across town, snuck into his apartment building and declared my love for him."

Her final statement left her friends as silent as before—though brand-new smiles bloomed on all their faces.

Three quick taps on the front door broke the reverie. All four heads whipped toward the sound. Priscilla, being the closest, scrambled down the steps and swung the door open.

A curly-haired man with hazel eyes appeared. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but when he noticed the crowded tableau before him, he shut it nervously.

The five people stood awkwardly for a moment. Suddenly, Philippa took two steps down, grabbed Anne's upper arms and maneuvered her down the stairs. As Phil shoved Anne off the landing, she grabbed a dark green purse from a hook near the front door and tossed the strap over Anne's shoulder. Then, she guided Anne out the front door, nodded briefly at Gil and slammed the front door shut.

"Hello, Anne," Gil said, his tone gentle and deep.

"Hey, Gil," Anne smiled, pointedly ignoring the three sets of eyes inspecting them from the tall rectangular window next to the door.

"Wanna take a walk?" Gil asked, his eyes scanning her face as if to memorize it.

"Of course," she answered.


	3. Chapter 3

Cool, spring winds rushed by Anne and Gil as they stood on the front porch of Patty's Place. The brisk air smelled new and washed by last night's rain, and the sun shone with clear, late-April light. For all her imagination, Anne could've hardly thought up a more perfect day. She could feel Gilbert's happiness radiating and mingling with her own unconfined joy. They hadn't even spoken to each other yet, and she already felt as if she could burst. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so wholly content.

Gil reached out and pulled her closer, looping her arm in his. He began walking, and she followed.

"I couldn't think of anything to say," Gil began, smiling down at her. "Especially not with your personal paparazzi watching through the window.'

"Oh, you have no idea what kind of interrogation you spared me from," Anne said, laughing. "I was trapped on the stairs with only two options: tell every tiny detail from last night or throw myself over the railing and bust my head."

"I'm happy to have provided you a third, safer, less embarrassing option," Gil replied. "I would hate for you to bust any part of your body… or to have tell them _everything_ that happened last night."

"Gilbert Blythe!" Anne gasped, her cheeks flushing as she rammed her elbow into Gil's side.

"Ow!" Gil yelled over-dramatically. "You've never really gotten over your aggressive phase, have you? Abuse is always wrong, Anne Shirley, and you know my skin bruises very easily."

"Oh, hush, I'm sure you hardly even felt that," Anne said, matter-of-factly.

She realized she had no idea where they were even headed, though it hardly even seemed to matter. As they walked, they passed several places she and Gil had frequented in their earlier college years. Memories of their times together began flooding back to Anne. Gil smiling at her over binders and textbooks in the coffee shop. Gil's hand on her waist as they danced in the old reception hall. Gil measuring out precise cap-fulls of detergent at the laundromat. Before last night, she would've promptly stifled those memories down. It wouldn't have been wise to remember any trace of Gil while she was with Roy. But now, she could cherish every last moment she shared with Gil.

"Anne," Gil began, his quiet tone changing the mood suddenly. "You know that last night commits you to nothing, right?"

Anne looked up into Gil's hazel eyes. He seemed as if he was doing all he could to remain composed.

"What do you mean?" Anne asked, hesitantly.

"Only that, I know you made quite a big decision last night… with Roy," he said, in measured tones. "And in the aftershocks of that decision, you made another big decision…to come to me. And while last night was the best night of my life, I won't hold you to anything you said or did—if you don't want me to."

They had turned into a little park at this point, and Anne, scarcely believing what she was hearing, stopped in the middle of the pathway. She broke off from Gil and turned to face him.

"I don't regret anything I said or did last night," she said, placing one of her hands on Gil's cheek. "The moment you agreed to take me to Avonlea for Di's wedding… well, it was as if I woke up. Like I suddenly realized every mistake I had made. Roy and I began to be over in that moment, too. I didn't make a huge decision last night. I just closed the cover on a book I'd already finished."

"But still, Anne, you don't have to—" Gil began, bringing his own hand up to cover Anne's.

Anne rolled onto the balls of her feet and quickly kissed him.

"I don't regret anything that happened last night, Gil," she said, staring at him intently. "I can't regret something like that. How could I regret something I always knew would happen? You knew and I knew it, and I'm done running away from it, Gil."

Gil smiled down into her gray eyes and pulled her close under the park's newly-green leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

Anne and Gil lingered in the garden for a few hours. Sitting closely together on the benches, they recounted the years they'd missed and occasionally ducked behind a tree for a quick embrace. Anne couldn't seem to hear enough of his voice, feel enough of his warm hands, see enough of his smiles.

It had been ages since she'd seen him smile so much. She could hardly measure her joy at being the source of his smiles now, but she couldn't help but feel guilty for having stifled them before. His sadness over the past two years was largely her fault.

Anne quickly shook that thought from her head. Gil would hear none of her self-disparaging remarks or incessant pleas for forgiveness.

"Anne," he had sighed, cutting off her fifth apology of the hour. "I won't hear one more cut against yourself! I don't need your apologies anymore—I just need you!"

She smiled at the thought and brushed her hand across his cheek—earning herself another of his smiles.

* * *

When he finally dropped her off at Patty's Place, it was well into the afternoon. The sun had warmed and the wind breezed more quietly through the bright green leaves. Gil needed to run a few errands that afternoon, but he invited her to his apartment for dinner that evening.

"Not sick of me yet?" Anne asked, smiling cheekily.

"Not yet, but I do think we should test my limits as much as we can," Gil replied, leaning forward and kissing her. "So get used to seeing me as often as possible. And I'll let you know when I start getting sick of you."

"Sounds like a plan," Anne smiled.

"See you tonight," Gil said, before turning and practically skipping toward the gate.

Anne sighed dreamily, leaning back against the oak door, and stared after Gil.

He had just disappeared around the corner when the door behind her was jerked open. She tripped backward and landed on the prickly welcome mat.

"Well, well, well," said Phil sarcastically, leaning against the doorframe and staring down at her friend. "If it isn't our little lovebird, back from her 5-hour date. Let me guess—you went to a cute little coffeeshop and stared into each other's eyes the entire time?"

"It was a park, actually," replied Anne indignantly, pulling herself up and rubbing her backside.

Phil, Pris and Stella huddled around the front door with knowing smirks on their faces.

"Get your little butt in here and spill," Phil said, grabbing Anne's sleeve and hoisting her inside.

"We've been dying here," exclaimed Stella, who pulled on Anne's other sleeve and guided her to the kitchen.

Priscilla slid in front of the stove, grabbed the kettle and began filling it with water.

Phil and Stella pushed Anne into her customary chair at the craggy, chipped breakfast table, before taking their usual seats. Pris settled the kettle onto the burner and jogged over to the last open chair. The three women turned to look at Anne expectantly.

"So…." Pris said, clearing her throat and tilting her head toward Anne.

"So…." Anne began, pointedly averting her eyes and dusting forgotten toast crumbs off the table. "What would you like to know?"

Pris, Stella and Phil looked at each other, their mouths gaping open.

"Everything!" They said in unison, before bursting into individual, overlapping inquiries.

"Why did you turn Roy down?"

"Well, it's rather complicated—" Anne started.

"What didn't you tell us about what happened at Di's wedding?"

"Just a couple, little details—" Anne began.

"Did Gil know you were having doubts?"

"I can't say if he did or didn't really—"

"Shhh! I need to know just one thing," Phil projected her voice above the clamor. "Did you have sex with Gilbert Blythe last night?"

Anne blushed deeply as her three friends gazed at her with suggestive grins. Before Anne could choke out an answer, a high-pitched whistle startled all the girls. The kettle was shooting hot steam into the kitchen.

"I think the kettle's saying yes," Pris quipped as she stood and walked to the stove.

"So…." Phil prompted, not easily distracted. "Did you? I've been wondering all day!"

Anne exhaled deeply and brushed her auburn hair out of her eyes.

"We didn't," Anne replied finally, as Pris set the tea tray on the table. "We could've—but we didn't."

"Could've?" Stella prodded, leaning forward as she stirred her tea.

"We talked about it," Anne said, miming a sip of her obviously-too-hot tea to buy herself a moment. "Last night, we talked about it, and Gil said he'd rather wait until I was completely ready."

"Such a gentleman," Pris sighed romantically.

"So you weren't ready last night?" Phil said, rolling her eyes at Pris and cutting straight to the point.

"It wasn't that I wasn't ready," Anne explained. "It was just—everything was so sudden! Within an hour, I realized I wasn't in love with Roy, said no to his proposal, realized I really wanted Gil, ran across town, declared my love for him and heard him declare his love for me!"

"Well, you'd heard that last one before," Phil smirked, before Anne flicked drops of hot tea at her with her teaspoon.

"I mean, yes, but it was different last night," Anne said, smiling slowly. "It was the first time he said it when I was dying to hear it. All the other times, I could hardly stomach the words. I couldn't hear Gil admit to what I was fighting! But last night, it was like… my whole world started over when he said it. Nothing from before mattered anymore. And after hearing him say it and seeing how he smiled when I said it, I was ready. I would've! But he didn't want anything to be a regret. So much had happened, and he didn't want me to feel ready in the moment and not in the morning."

All three of Anne's roommates looked at her then, without a hint of jest or sarcasm.

"We're very happy for you, Anne," Stella said, gently. "Gil has always been the one for you."

"I know that now," Anne said, blinking back bittersweet tears. "All of you, thank you for supporting me all these years. I know I've been blind and stupid, and none of you have ever judged me for it."

"Of course!" Stella said, her own tears forming as she jumped up and hugged Anne. "You keep the rest of us from falling apart! We had to support you."

"And you weren't stupid," Pris began, leaning over to embrace Anne, too. "You can't know the ending at the start."

"Oh, honey," Phil said, rising from her chair to join the group. "Of course we judged you! We just did it when you weren't in the room!"

The four roommates all laughed at that, and in the arms of her friends, Anne felt peace.


	5. Chapter 5

Halfway into a coat of lipstick, Anne realized she'd already applied it 5 minutes ago. She snapped the tube shut and sat back in the chair at her vanity. She stared at herself in the old, speckled mirror and shakily exhaled.

She found herself unexpectedly nervous for her date with Gil tonight. After her time with him this morning and her talk with her friends this afternoon, she had never felt so light and carefree. Her world had seemed perfect. And then, the evening began rolling in. Gil had sent her a text, letting her know he was home and expecting her soon, and Anne felt her stomach turn on a dime.

She had rushed up the stairs, locked herself in her room and tore her sweater off. She looked hideous—the sweater made her look bony and her jeans made her legs look lumpy.

"Dear God," Anne whispered to herself, as she rummaged through her chest of drawers. "He saw me like this earlier! What was I thinking?"

She rushed across her room and rifled through the clothes hanging neatly in her closet.

"Why do I own so much pink?" Anne thought, nearly hyperventilating. "Who let me buy so much pink? Have they seen my hair?"

Anne whipped around and scrambled to her vanity.

Her hair was so painfully red. Her features were so sharp and unforgiving. And she still had those blasted 7 freckles. Anne frantically powdered her pale face, smoothed lipstick over her chapped lips and attempted to tamp down her frizzing hair.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Anne muttered, her eyes welling with tears.

Anne sighed and held her face in her shaking hands. She hadn't felt so insecure in ages, but make no mistake, Anne had always been frustrated by her looks. Certainly, the awkwardness of her youth had passed, but Anne never could reconcile her disappointment over her appearance. And of course, living with Phil made things difficult. Phil's smooth chestnut hair, lovely eyes and wonderfully crooked smile unintentionally stifled any blooming confidence Anne felt. Anne could recall too many instances when she emerged from her room, primped for a party and feeling absolutely assured in herself. Then, she would run into the stunning Phil in the hall and mentally revert to her gangly childhood self.

And now, she had the absolute audacity to imagine she could be in Gil's league! Gil had been widely hailed as the best-looking young man in all Avonlea. And as Rachel Lynde contended, the entire Island! And once she and Gil arrived at Redmond, Anne realized Gil was possibly the most attractive man she would ever meet. And she realized the other girls clearly noticed, as well. Oh, how Anne had hated both realizations: that Gil was entirely too handsome and that she wasn't the only one to know.

When Gil escorted her to events in their early college years, Anne always overheard the gossipy buzz they attracted.

"Oh, Lord, her hair so…red."

"I suppose correction fluid is a viable alternative for foundation."

"It's so sweet for Gil to stick with her!"

Anne felt like such an idiot then, and now, she felt even worse. Anne wiped the fledgling tears from her eyes, carefully avoiding smearing her mascara. She needed to snap out of this funk. She applied her second, thoughtless coat of lipstick and sat back in her chair. She inhaled and exhaled until her breath became regular and comforting.

"Beauty isn't everything, Anne Shirley," Marilla's stern voice echoed in her head. "You best get that silly notion out of your head before you let it ruin your life."

Strengthened by her adoptive mother's advice, Anne pulled her sweater back on. She didn't look bony in it—she looked slim. And her jeans made her legs look long, not lumpy.

Pointedly avoiding her mirror, Anne grabbed her coat and purse and unlocked her door. She was seeing Gil tonight and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Anne approached Gil's apartment building with a lingering sense of nervousness. Seeing Gil had always been a nerve-wracking experience, anyways. And now, she was finally _with_ him—for all that entailed.

Her shaky finger pressed the buzzer, and in a flash, the door mechanism unlatched. After hiking the stairs and crossing the brown-toned hallway, Anne reached his door. She knocked, and as expected, the door opened in half a moment. Gil smiled warmly at her, his hazel eyes full of decade's worth of love. And, at the sight of his perfect face shining with love for her, Anne promptly burst into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite the tears blurring her vision, Anne could see Gilbert's face run a race of emotions. Shock, confusion, questioning, thoughtfulness and, finally, determination.

He drew her into his apartment, shutting the door with one arm and pulling her to himself with the other. Gil's kindness and love emanated strongly from his body, and Anne broke into a new round of tears at the warm feeling. Gil walked her backwards, guiding her toward the dark green couch. Anne felt her calves brush the worn, soft cushions, before Gil pulled her down and into his lap.

They sat silently for several minutes. Gil's hand circled rhythmically on Anne's back, and her fingers threaded into his sweater's charcoal yarn. Once her emotions calmed down and the smell of spaghetti reached her nose, Anne felt rather silly, warm and a little hungry. Her breakdowns had always created a sort of vacuum of emotions other than pure anxiety.

She pulled back from Gil, nervous to see his face. Would he think she was acting like a child? Would he not want to be with her anymore? When she saw his face, it was full of complete concern. His hazel eyes searched her face, trying desperately to decode why she'd burst into tears at the sight of him.

"Anne, are you okay?" Gil asked, smoothing his hand across her cheek. "What happened between this morning and now?"

Anne leaned her wet face into his palm and covered his other hand with hers.

"I just…. I saw you and… you looked just… so handsome," Anne began, her words coming slowly. "And I'm just so…."

"So what?" Gil prompted, his face slightly flushed from Anne's appraisal of his person.

"So…." Anne began, feeling somewhat foolish. "I'm so… ugly!"

Gil's jaw dropped preemptively to say something reassuring before the reality of her words set in. Then, his head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed deeply. His jaw dropped further and then closed quickly. He seemed utterly befuddled.

"You are… so…" Gil stuttered, both his hands coming to hold hers tightly. "You hair… your eyes… they're so…."

Anne blushed as his eyes scanned her features appraisingly. His long pause made her wish she'd never said anything.

"Anne," Gil began again, regaining his composure. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. From the moment I met you, I knew I'd never seen anyone like you before and I knew I never would again."

"But my hair," Anne interrupted. "It's so awfully red!"

"Your hair is the most perfect shade of red," Gil said exasperatedly, running his fingers through one of her loose curls. "It's the shade artists spend their lives looking for!"

"Gil…." Anne began, gazing downward and playing with a loose thread on the green couch.

"And I love your seven little freckles," Gil continued, brushing her small, freckled nose with one of his fingers. "Your eyes are lovely, and you don't know how many times you stopped me in my tracks just by looking at me. Your skin is beautiful and exactly as soft as I imagined, and I still can't believe I have the right to tell you all this now!"

"Gil…." Anne said again.

"Anne Shirley, you are perfect," Gil said, needing to reassure her completely. "And I've always thought that."

Anne hardly knew what to say. Gil was honestly perfect—he knew exactly how to put her at ease. He had thought her beautiful even back when they were children, and he thought her beautiful now. Anne felt her heart fill with love for the man next to her, and though her fears weren't gone exactly, she felt more at ease.

"Gilbert Blythe," Anne said, softly. "You are wonderful, and I'm ecstatic to be here with you right now."

"I'm glad you're here, too," Gil said. "Well, glad isn't really the word for it. There's no word to describe how I feel about being here with you. I've been dreaming about this for years—just sitting with you, alone, and knowing you love me."

"I love you, Gil," Anne said, laughing as Gil pulled her into his lap. "Gil! What about the spaghetti? Won't it burn?"

"It'll keep," Gil's voice rumbled against her neck. "But I think it's rather imperative that I show my lovely girlfriend how much beautiful she is."


	7. Chapter 7

_If anyone's wondering why this took me so long, blame an incredibly conservative, religious upbringing. It takes a lot out of me to write about (even as indirectly as this) something that up until a few years ago was taboo in my world. I apologize and hope this is somewhat worth it!_

* * *

A few weeks ago, Anne Shirley would've never imagined she'd be mostly horizontal on Gilbert Blythe's couch in his dimly-lit apartment. She never would've thought her sweater would be dangling off the armrest of the chair next to her. And she certainly wouldn't have imagined she'd be running her hands up and down Gil's chest while the smell of slightly-burning spaghetti sauce lingered in the air.

However, there she was, lying underneath Gil while his hands swept frantically over every part of her he could reach. Anne smiled against his mouth and pushed back slightly.

"There's no hurry, Gil," she whispered, looking into his eyes kindly. "I'm not going anywhere-you can take your time."

Gil blushed at her words and dropped his head into the crook of her neck. He mumbled something against her skin, but she couldn't quite decipher the rumbles.

"Gil?" Anne asked and combed her fingers through his curls.

"I just..." Gil began, pulling his head up again and facing her. "I don't want to...rush you, but I feel like... I have to take what I can get while you'll let me..."

"Gil!" Anne said, pulling her body out from under his slightly. "What do you mean?"

Gil twisted into a sitting position and ran a hand through his hair. He breathed deeply before turning to look at her.

"Anne, well, that night at Di's wedding," Gil said slowly. "I mean, it was a disaster in a lot of ways, but it was perfect in a lot of ways too. At least, to me it was. One moment, everything was perfect, and I was so sure I'd finally get to be with you, and you were ready to be with me. And then, suddenly, you were pulling yourself away from me and running back to him."

"Gil, I-" Anne began, reaching out and grabbing his hand softly.

"No, it's fine," Gil said, squeezing her hand gently. "There were a lot of things happening then, for both of us. But up until a few days ago, I thought that moment upstairs at Di's house was the only thing I'd have, like _that_ , for us forever. And now, I know things between us are different—and that's the best thing that's ever happened to me, Anne! But I still want as much of you as I can get—so long as you let me. And I know that sounds like that nastiest male thought ever, and I promise I don't mean it that way at all. I'll take whatever you want to give me, and I'll wait as long as you want. I just want to make the most of our time together, after all this time."

"Gil," Anne said, leaning over closer to him. "I want to do whatever you want to do. And I love that you respect me and what I want, and I never had a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't. You're the best man I've ever known, and honestly, I want to go as fast as you do! I feel like a fool for putting us off this long, and I want to remedy that delay as soon as you're ready."

Her encouraging words lit Gil's eyes with so much hope and heat that Anne felt her stomach flip. Knowing Gil might still be somewhat hesitant, she knew she would have to make the first step.

Rising from the couch and stepping in front of Gil, Anne smoothed her hand against his cheek and looked down at the curly-haired man.

"Now, I know I haven't really hung out here in a while and that there's not much space to get lost in," Anne began, an involuntary blush warming her cheeks despite her confidence. "But it would be helpful if you could show me to your bedroom."

* * *

"Do you want parmesan on top? I have the sprinkle kind and the powdery kind," Gil's voice rang from the next room.

"The sprinkle kind would be great," Anne answered, pulling the flannel sheet around her more securely.

She turned to look at her reflection in Gil's window. Her hair was positively wild, and her eye makeup was smudged more than usual. She tried vainly to smooth down her curls as Gil walked back into the bedroom. Hopefully, he still found her attractive in this state.

"So, the sauce is a definitely a little burnt, and reheating noodles in the microwave isn't exactly ideal," Gil said, as he balanced two plates, a bottle of wine and two glasses on a cookie sheet. "But I think it'll still taste fine, and with this very special bottle of the cheapest yet highest alcohol volume wine, I think it'll taste great!"

Gil placed the makeshift tray onto the foot of the bed, poured Anne a tumbler of wine and handed her the cup and a plate of spaghetti.

"Thank you, Gil," Anne said smiling at his earnest expression. "I have no doubt that this will be the best meal I've ever had in bed with you."

"Well, I'm glad I've set that bar so low initially," Gil laughed, moving into bed next to her. "Now, I can feed you anything that isn't three hour old spaghetti and you'll think it's five-star dining."

Anne rolled her eyes dramatically at him and took a sip of her wine. The pair ate quietly for a few moments—neither wholly believing what had happened. She had very much enjoyed herself; Gil had been exactly as thoughtful, kind and accommodating as she'd always secretly imagined he'd be. It wasn't perfect in a technical sense, but she'd learned about what he seemed to like as they went, and she could hardly wait to try again. She just desperately hoped Gil was on the same page.

"So," Anne began, twirling the noodles aimlessly on her plate and purposefully not meeting his eyes. "Was it worth the wait?"

Gil didn't answer for a moment, and her old doubts began to rise. Had she been too awkward? Was he not as attracted to her as he'd been before? Was she a disappointment after all these years?

"I would have waited twenty years for that," Gil voice interrupted her thoughts. "Though I'm glad I didn't, and I sincerely hope the turnaround on the next time is considerably shorter."

She met his eyes finally and saw only sincerity there.

"You were everything I had ever let myself imagine. You are so beautiful and lovely," Gil said, his hand touching hers gently. "And I can't believe I can finally touch you like that,"

"Me too," Anne said, her heart nearly bursting.


End file.
